


A Guilty Defective

by DigimonAndPokemon



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Angst, Competent Zim (Invader Zim), Defective Zim, Dib is Of Legal Age (Invader Zim), Dib is So Done (Invader Zim), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Kinda, M/M, OCC Characters, Oblivious Dib and Zim (Invader Zim), Older Dib (Invader Zim), Oops, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Resisty Resisting Against the Irken Empire (Invader Zim), Zim is slowly dying, im trying, more like unwilling partners
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-22 18:36:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21306686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DigimonAndPokemon/pseuds/DigimonAndPokemon
Summary: Zim is the younger brother of the two tallest Purple and Red. For years Zim has served the empire loyally under his brothers'. That is until his PAK began malfunctioning. Slowly, he turns into the thing the empire fears most: A defective with power. He joins the resisty in hopes of finding a better future for the Irken empire before his PAK has a chance of shutting down completely.(Eventual ZaDr)
Relationships: Almighty Tallest Purple & Almighty Tallest Red, Almighty Tallest Purple & Zim, Almighty Tallest Red & Zim, Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 54





	1. The Resisty

**Author's Note:**

> Someone wrote something about Zim being the younger brother of the tallest and my mind immediately made this AU. A g

If Zim was being perfectly honest, he had no idea how he was able to get this far. Perhaps if he was an average every day Irken with a defective PAK hanging on their back, maybe that would make more sense. But, he realized now as he sat in his ship typing away various layers of code, he wasn’t someone who could just slip through the cracks unnoticed. It was far more than a miracle. It was unreal. 

Zim spared a glance at his Audio and Visual Transmission Defense just to make sure it was still on, blinking green. If he failed now than his pursuit would have been for nothing. He’d be deactivated before even making it to his goal. He wasn’t about to live with that fact. 

He turned back to his screen, typing faster, his PAK scanning everything making sure no mistakes were made in his flurry. 

He knew fully well that his ship was lined front to back with cameras and tiny unrecognizable microphones. The thought of them made Zim worry, but he knew they weren’t working at the moment. Thanks to his device (he had to make discreetly in some unused storage closet for the very same reasons) they wouldn’t be able to work, but still sent a signal back to Irk. On the occasion that the Control Brains might grow suspicious if his wiretaps were suddenly turned offline.

  
  


Oh how much easier this would be if he was some random Irken. 

Zim had pulled his hands back when he finally finished the code. A weight had lifted off his shoulders as he spent a brief moment leaning back in his chair. He closed his eyes, feeling that small sting he gets whenever he spent too long staring at his screen. With a breath, he sat back up. Another weight fell on his shoulders as he thought about his next obstacle. He stood.

He double-checked everything was in its place and triple checked his device before turning back to the screen. He squared off his shoulders before hitting the call button. 

This was going to be hard. 

It rang once, then twice, then a third time. Each ring had sent a shock of nerves down his stomach wanting him to throw up his lunch. It had rung two more times. Zim was almost regretting his call now. There was only a small chance they’d actually listen to what he had to say, and who knows what they’ll do once they hung up. 

They finally picked up at the eighth ring. 

“What do you wan-” A familiar face covered his screen. He’s seen that face on so many wanted posters and on the various reports he would get. It was hard to forget those eyes. Small, yellow, and covered in a pair of thick-lensed goggles. The horns on his head hung back farther, going straight back instead of the rounded Zim was used to. He’s seen many of his species when he grew up as a scientist, but the one in front of him had stuck out like a sore thumb among his own people. His name, just as unforgettable, was Lard Nar. Leader of the Resisty. 

Currently, the Vortian was staring at the screen wide-eyed his mouth gaped trying to find something to say. His skin had turned a few shades lighter and looked about ready to throw up. Zim felt his heartbeat against his rib cage. 

“Lard Nar,” He offered a slight bow hoping to relieve some of the tension. “I ask you to please hear what I have to say.” Lard Nar’s face slowly shifted to one of shock to anger. His brows slowly turned downward and his eyes grew alight with a heat he's never seen. Zim felt himself sweat under the hate, rage-filled gaze. 

“Why should I listen to a thing you have to say, Prince of the Irken Empire.” Lard Nar spat out his title with venom and hate. Zim felt himself flinch at the heat in his voice. 

“Please,” He tried, “I don’t come on behave of the Armada.” Lard Nar seemed to pause. Zim took it has his chance to continue. 

“I wish to join the Resisty.” Shock quickly morphed back onto Lard Nar’s features. Then, he spat out a laugh. His eyes grew dark as he bawled forward laughing. His fingers dug harshly into his uniform almost tearing it. 

“You-” he continued between laughs pointing and accusing finger at the screen, “Mr. I Conquer Planets For Sport,” He straightened up with a gasp only to lean back in his chair, laughing like a mad man “Wants to join the-...the very group th-that wants his head!” Zim felt himself sigh. He knew very well that Lard Nar wouldn't give him a chance this easily. Still, Zim would never admit, it stung a little.

“Yes,” He deadpanned. Lard Nar sat up, wiping away the tears that had began to pool at the corners of his eyes. He looked Zim up and down, before letting out a wheeze.

“You can’t be serious,” He squeaked out. 

“Please,” He chimed in, “Listen to my reasoning.” Lard Nar finished off the last of his chuckling before placing his hands back onto his armrests. There was still an amused glint in his eyes.

“Alright,” He said waving his hand, “I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time. I hope you continue to humor me.” Zim tried his best not to shoot him a dirty look. 

“Zim is being completely serious.” 

“Uh-huh,” He said with a sarcastic tone. “And I’m the king of Vort.” He rolled his eyes. Zim opened his mouth ready to retort but stopped himself. He only had one chance to convince the Vortian and if Zim had spent his precious few minutes cussing him out then there was no point. Instead, he straightened his back, clasping his hands together underneath his PAK.

"Zim asks for you to just listen to what I propose! I feel I can be beneficial to your cause-”

“That is if you don’t betray us the moment we turn our backs.” Lard Nar let out a hum as he cucked a nonexistent brow. Zim exhaled through his nostrils. 

“Fine,” He sighed out. “I might as well warn you so this call isn’t completely useless.

“In two days the empire will launch an attack at your ship at precisely 3600 Irken Military time. Two Viral Tanks, five Shuvvers, and eight Rippers are scheduled to attack. The plan is to attack your engines, then your firearms, and, lastly, your shields. They are expecting your guard to be down, and to finally be rid of you. I suggest you head my warning.” Zim saw fear and worry begin to fill Lard Nar's eyes. He repressed a smirk. “I will call again in three days. I’m hoping there will be someone alive to answer it.” Lard Nar opened his mouth about to ask something but Zim had run out of time.

“Goodbye, and good luck, Lard Nar.” With that Zim hit ‘End call.’

Before he had any chance to breathe a small call light began blinking. His antenna flinched as the light pierced through the darkness of his ship. He had a feeling who would be calling right now especially since he was meant to be back at the massive in ten minutes. He let out a shaky nervous breath, his heart rate picked up slightly only to go back down as soon as PAK had leveled out his hormones. Zim was almost grateful that, that part of his PAK was still working. 

He didn’t know how much longer though.

Zim pressed the accept call button letting the screen light up his ship once again.

Two Irkens filled the screen.

“Red and Purple,” Zim wiggled his antenna. The two responded with the same.

“Zim,” Purple began trying to be as professional as possible in front of the massive. Zim knows purple and he knows how happy he can get whenever he’s sure Zim is alive and save. The small Irken felt a twinge of something pinch at his chest. His PAK wiped it away before Zim could understand it. 

“We hope your business is complete.” Red chimed in just as ecstatic as Purple.

“I’ve completed my experiment. I was beginning my preparations back to the massive.” Zim responded. He felt bad for lying to his brothers, but he needed to keep them in the dark as much as possible. He had told them that he was testing an experiment, seeing how well it would do out in the vacuum of space. Truthfully, he had completed that experiment long before this. But his brothers did not need to know this. 

“Good. We expect you back in ten minutes.” Purple concluded before ending the call.

Darkness filled the ship again. This time, Zim let himself fall back into his chair. He slumped back feeling that tired ache in his bones. The Irken let out a long sigh.

He was in way over his head. 


	2. Fall Into Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm already updating. This never happens lmao.

Zim awoke to the alarms ringing through massive. He jumped up, his neck whining out in pain. He winced rubbing his neck. He fell asleep at his workbench again forcing his body in a weird position all night. At least he didn’t leave on any dangerous tools. Again. 

He groaned leaning back in his chair. He jumped again when the alarms pierced through the air. Something was happening, but, guessing from the fact he wasn’t already through across his room, they weren’t under attack. He let out a puff of breath before standing up. He spared a glance at his SIR unit finding him where he was left last night; curled up on the small couch by his desk. 

The SIR liked to be called GIR. It was defective, but Zim couldn’t bring himself to deactivate him. His brothers had gifted him to Zim when he wasn’t able to join the Invaders in training. It was a sort of peace offering. They didn’t know GIR was defective but Zim wasn’t planning on them figuring out. 

GIR liked being able to watch Zim when he worked on his little inventions and oftentimes got restless when Zim pushed him away. He learned the hard way that it was better to give the little robot what he wanted.

Zim turned away from the robot grabbing a small remote off the table. He pointed it at the screen in front of him turning it on. A colorful cartoon filled the screen. The Irken empire didn’t exactly make cartoons, but some of the nearby planets did. Zim figured out GIR loved them and always remembered to put one on before he leaves. He placed the remote back down.

Before he got a chance to open the door, they slide open revealing a disheveled service drone. 

“There you are!” He shouted, stepping out of the way as Zim walked out of his room. His brothers always sent this drone whenever they needed Zim for something. He didn’t know his name, but the drone didn’t seem to mind. 

“What’s going on?” Zim asked as he glanced around. Irkens of every rank and job were running to and fro through the halls. They weren’t under attack though. What could have everyone so worked up?

“That mission!” The drone exclaimed waving his hands around almost hitting one of the Irkens running by. “The one with the Resisty!” 

“Yes?” Zim drawled. 

“All the ships came back destroyed!” He grabbed at his antenna harshly.

“What!” Zim cried out in fake shock. It was the only thing he could do to keep himself from crying out in triumph. The resisty had listened to him! They had given him a chance. 

“Yes!” The drone shouted back. Zim reached out grabbing at an Irken heading towards the control room. The Irken stumbled a bit as Zim yanked their uniform. They stared down at Zim with a hint of worry in their eyes. 

“You!” Zim shouted as he pointed a finger at them. “I need a complete mission report!” They nodded. Zim let them go and they quickly turned on their heel running in the opposite direction.

Zim turned away from them ready to head towards the control room. He stopped when the service drone yanked at his uniform. 

“The tallests want you in the safe room.” Zim’s antenna flinched upwards. His fist clenched into a ball, frustration bubbling up inside him. 

“What!” He screamed spinning around to face the drone. Many of the Irkens passing by turned their heads towards the sudden shouting. The drone seemed unphased by Zim’s outburst. At this point, his outbursts were expected. “Why?” Zim demanded.

“They told me there might be a traitor among the massive. They don’t want you to get hurt.” Zim let out a growl, his nails digging dangerously into his hand. He let out a huff, turning back around. He got lost in the crowd before the service drone had a chance to stop him. 

The control room was in absolute chaos. Irkens were running to and fro stations, all with digital screens in their faces. Even the tallest, on the other end of the room on a level platform, were typing away at their many screens.

Zim pushed his way through the panicking Irkens, carful no to get himself trampled. None of them paid him any mind. 

“This has never happened before,” Purple said, a hint of panic in his tone. He didn’t look up from his screen. 

“The Resisty seemed to know our every move. Someone  _ must _ have given them a heads up! All our ships were cloaked!” Red grumbled out, mostly to himself. 

“That  _ has _ to mean there’s a traitor on boa-” Red turned his head.

“ZIM!” He shouted out. Purple turned around with a questioning look. “What are you doing here!? You’re supposed to-”

“To be in the safe room. Yes, yes, I know.” Zim said waving him off. Red gave him an annoyed look. The Irken from before had finally caught up to Zim a full report tucked under their arm. Zim offered a quick “thanks” as they handed him the digital screen. They wandered off without another word. Zim pulled the screen up to his face. 

“Zim-” Red tried only to have Zim stick up his hand to silence him. Red let out an annoyed huff as he rolled his eyes. Zim continued to flip through the papers, his PAK picking up as much information as possible. There were some Irken casualties, but it didn’t seem like a lot. Most made it back alive. Zim’s face pinched, not completely sure how he should feel about that. 

“So, the Resisty obtained minor damage,” He hummed pulling himself out of his thoughts. Red reached forward, plucking the papers out of his hand. 

“Hey,” Zim whined.

“You’re supposed to be in the safe zone.” There was a hint of frustration in Red’s voice. Zim raised a non-existent brow.

“But, how am I, the most incredible Zim, be able to help if I’m in the safe room.”

“You’re not supposed to help.” Purple deadpanned. 

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Zim said blankly. His brothers always did this. If they deemed anything too hard or dangerous, Zim wasn’t allowed anywhere near it. He was rarely allowed to leave the massive, and the Irken was lucky he was permitted his own room without guards right outside twenty-four seven. Zim’s size often put a target right on his back. It was this same reason that his brothers forbid Zim from joining the Invaders rank. 

But, things had to be different this time. This time he  _ needed _ to be on this mission. He needed to be there for every decision made. He needed to be there for every action taken. This time, he couldn’t rely on notes and reports alone. This was too important.

“Zim,” Purple warned. “You’re not going to be on this mission. It’s far too dangerous for you to be anywhere near it.”

“Then going to the safe room makes no sense!” Zim shouted. Red gave him a questioning look. 

“Continue,” He brought a hand to his chin. 

“I mean, this traitor clearly has close ties. They were able to get their hands on plans that only taller Irkens could get their hands on. That makes it slightly more possible that they’ll have access to the safe room, and they’ll just have me backed up into a corner.” Zim tried, hoping that his brothers would believe his half-assed excuse. He really should’ve seen this coming. 

Red glanced back at Purple having a silent conversation with their eyes. Zim felt his heart pick up pace and sweat beginning to form on his brow. He could still hear the alarm bells ringing past the door. 

“I mean, he’s kinda got a point,” Purple shrugged. Red sighed in defeat, bringing a hand to rub at his temples. 

“Fine, fine.” He breathed out before pointing an accusing finger at Zim. “You can stay Zim, but!” He pointed up at the ceiling, “You are not allowed to touch anything.” The small gave an affirming nod before Red turned away to continue his work. 

Zim let out a silent sigh of relief. His excuse had actually worked this time. He couldn’t mess things up now. Things were set up perfectly. A few more lucky shots and everything would fall into place. 

Everything was too perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!   
Feedback is apreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know it's shit, but who cares.  
Come yell at me to update on my Tumblr: https://digimonandpokemon.tumblr.com/


End file.
